


He Never Moved On

by Anonymous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Angst, Cheating, M/M, Tragedy, happy ending? Idk her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 14:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Derek leaves Stiles for another, and moves on with his life.





	He Never Moved On

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [He never moved on](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/387980) by Spear and Magic Helmet. 



He Never Moved on 

Derek Hale sat in the back of a taxi, clutching a small cardboard box possessively to his chest. He wore a grim expression, while he grunted out one syllable answers to the cabbie that seemed intent on talking his ear off.

The taxi made its way down the windy coastal highway, and Derek looked out of the window, his eyes staring vacantly at the scenery, while the thumb of his right hand idly stroked the box, and the thumb of his left hand absently worried a simple gold band worn on his third finger.

He always played with his wedding ring when deep in thought. And he was deep in thought....very, very deep indeed.

The memories flooded back as if it were yesterday.

***

"Is there someone else?"

 

Derek stared coolly into Stiles wide brown eyes. He hadn't wanted it to be like this. He had planned to tell him that weekend, when they were both home and there was time for him to explain.

 

But Stiles had seen them at a bar. A stupid bar in the middle of nowhere. Stiles had wandered in with a Lacrosse teammate for a beer and a laugh and seen Derek and Evan sharing a bench in a corner booth, engaged in what had looked like a very intimate conversation. Stiles had turned on his heel and walked straight out of the bar. Derek had stayed until last call.

 

Derek walked through the front door of the house he had shared with Stiles for the past 5 years and found his companion waiting up for him.

 

The plan had been shot...the time for talking was now...

 

"I asked you a question, Derek. Is there someone else?"

 

"I think you know the answer to that question, Stiles." Derek answered.

 

The last thing he had wanted to do was hurt Stiles, but the time had come for honesty, and Derek knew that no matter what happened now, Stiles would be hurt. There was no avoiding it.

 

"How long has this been going on?" Stiles asked, his shaking voice betraying his emotions.

 

"Almost a year."

 

"And do you love him?" the question was asked in a whisper.

 

"Stiles, I...."

 

"No, Der....tell me, do you love him?"

 

"Yes."

 

Stiles took a deep breath and looked away quickly. A tear slid slowly down his cheek.

 

"When were you going to tell me, Der?" There was a hint of desperation in Stiles voice that Derek had not heard before.

 

"This weekend. I was going to tell you this weekend. I'm sorry, Stiles. I never meant for you to find out like this.

 

Stiles nodded slightly before turning his face towards Derek again, tears freely slipping down his cheeks. "So, what's the plan now?"

 

Derek straightened up and looked down at the younger man. God, he looked so small in that ridiculously huge chair. He took a step towards Stiles and reached out to tenderly stroke his hair.

 

"I'm going to move out," he said quietly.

 

"God, nooooo." Stiles sobbed as he clutched Derek's hand and pressed it tightly to his dampened cheek. "No Der, nooooo, please don't......don't leave me...."

 

Derek had never seen Stiles in such as state, and it unnerved him. And when things un nerved Derek Hale, he tended to resort to the old stiff upper lip approach. It was the Hale way, after all.

 

Pulling his hand free from Stiles, he backed away and looked down at his sobbing partner.

 

"Stiles....stop this at once. It is not the end of the world. We had a wonderful relationship, and I will always care for you, but it has run its course. It is time for us both to move on."

 

Stiles's sobs grew louder and he slipped from the chair onto his knees.

 

"Please Der....please..I'm begging you, don't go. I .. I love you. I love only you..."

 

Derek was horrified at this outburst.

 

"Stiles, stop this dramatic display at once or I will leave immediately!"

 

The threat had the opposite effect, and Stiles only seemed to sink further into himself. He was crying uncontrollably now. In all of Derek's memories, he had never seen Stiles let go like this....

 

Derek, for once in his life, had no idea how to react to this hysteria. In a decision that was to haunt him to the grave, Derek looked down at Stiles and sneered. "I'm leaving, Stilinski. I'll return when you are calm and we can discuss this further, like two adults."

 

With that, he spun on his heel and walked out the door. He could hear Stiles sobs as he walked away from the house and through the gate. Yes, he would return the following day when all was calm again.

 

He apparated to Evan’s.

***

Derek really had had the best of intentions. And when he arrived at Evan’s, they had conversed well into the early morning, and slept throughout the day. As well the next day was taken up with arranging the house for his things that he would be moving in.

 

Love has a way of melting minutes into hours, hours into days, days into weeks and weeks into months, and Derek was a man who was truly in love.

 

He had loved Stiles, of course; one didn't spend five years with someone they didn't love, but Stiles was still a child in so many ways....needy and insecure about commitment.

 

Evan. He was an intellectual, whom Derek found stimulating to talk to, and he was experienced in the art of love, often taking charge in the bedroom, which was something Stiles definitely did not do.

 

So it was that three months had passed before Derek found himself walking up the path to the house he had shared with Stiles. He truly hadn't meant to leave things as long as he had, and he hoped Stiles wasn't angry with him for that. The young man had enough abandonment issues as it was.

 

He walked to the front door and knocked loudly. It was early enough in the morning, Stiles should still be home.

 

There was no answer, and Derek knocked again louder.

 

Still nothing.

 

He was about to knock once more when a female voice sounded behind him.

 

"Are you here for the viewing?" she asked

 

"Excuse me?" Derek asked, turning to look at the well-dressed lady with the ridiculously loud lipstick smeared onto her lips.

 

"The viewing....I'm showing the house today, are you here to see it? she asked as she juggled some papers in one hand, and an expensive looking briefcase with the other. Derek noted her nail polish was as obnoxious as her lipstick.

 

"Showing the house? But I live here." Derek sputtered, clearly frustrated at his lack of knowledge of events that were playing out on his front step.

 

"Oh...." the lady said, her smile fading somewhat. "You must be Mr. Hale then."

 

"Yes I'm Mr. Hale, now would you care to tell me what in the hell is going on?" Derek was coming close to losing his patience, and he could feel a dull throbbing starting up behind his left eye.

 

"Yes sir, well, you see sir, Mr. Stilinski has asked us to sell this house on his behalf."

 

"And what, pray tell, are Mr. Stilinski's whereabouts now?"

 

"I've no idea, Sir. He informed me that he was moving to California, and he would contact us in regards to the money."

 

"California? Where in California?"

 

"I assure you, I don't know, sir." Something about this tall man intimidated the young real estate vendor, and she felt herself regressing to a schoolgirl with her need to refer to Mr. Hale as sir. “Ah, but he did leave me this to give you, should you show up."

 

She walked over to the front step and lay her briefcase down. It took her three attempts to get her combination correct, her hands were shaking so, but she finally succeeded in opening the briefcase and pulling out a small manila envelope.

 

Wordlessly, Derek accepted it and walked away. He waited until the lady had entered the house before he tore the envelope open and looked inside.

 

"Derek, your furniture and belongings are being stored at EZ Mini Storage, Building 3, Unit 11.  
Stiles."

Derek looked at the note with the familiar handwriting. He tipped the envelope further, and a small key popped out onto his hand.

 

The key to the storage locker. The only thing left of his time with Stiles.

 

Wordlessly he walked away from the little house he had shared with Stiles. He didn't look back.

*******

Derek had expected to hear from Stiles once the pain of their separation had eased, for when all was said and done, they had really been close friends as well as lovers. He was surprised when months turned to years and still no word.

 

Life went on for Derek. He and Evan were married in a small civic ceremony. Life was good for Derek, and he had settled into a happy routine of work and companionship.

 

Evan was a calm soul, a gentle man who complimented Derek' moodiness. Where Evan was learned, Stiles had been ignorant. Evan's inner peace had contrasted with Stiles's insecurity. Where Stiles had frustrated Derek, Evan calmed him.

 

Derek hadn't thought about Stiles in years.

Then the letter came.

 

On a simple piece of lined paper was Stiles’s almost illegible chicken scratch.

 

"My dearest Derek,  
I'm sorry to write to you out of the blue. I know that many years have passed since our paths split, and I hope this letter isn’t a shock to you, but I am in need of you now. I have no one else to turn to.

Derek, I know that you released me several years ago. It was hard for me to accept it, but I loved you and wanted you to be happy. So I let you be.

Your happiness came at my expense, though, and to be honest, I have to tell you that my life has been wretched without you. Not a day has gone by where you have not been in my thoughts.

I've been living in Morro Bay, California. I've made a life for myself here. I own a local diner. It's not much, but it's mine.

It's beautiful here, Der, with miles of cliffs and ocean as far as the eye can see. So many times I've imagined you standing here next to me, taking in the beautiful view that I never seem to tire of.

Which brings me to the reason for this letter.

I'm ill. Very, very ill. And want very much to see you before...well, lets just say before things progress.

I live above my diner. You can't miss it, it's on the main street, and it's called "Stiles." Snicker if you must, I never was very original. However, I think you might have more luck finding me at the general hospital in Santa Cruz.

Please say you'll come...

I want only one thing, and that's to see you again.

Still loving you,  
Stiles.

*******

Derek looked at the postmark. It had been sent over two months ago. Stiles had not known where to find Derek, so he'd mailed the letter to daft old Mrs. McCall, who had sat on it until her next trip to Seattle.

 

Derek hurriedly packed and made arrangements to fly immediately to California.

 

Evan accompanied him to the airport, and wished him a safe trip. Derek noted the look of unease upon his husband’s face as he kissed him goodbye before he turned and walked to the gate.

The flight hadn’t been long but it had given Derek ample time to think about Stiles.

How he used to be infuriated by him when he was a child. How as he had grown he had lost the mannerism's Derek had associated with John and he’d started seeing Stiles.

 

Stiles who bore the weight of the world on his shoulders and never once stumbled.

 

 

Stiles who had ignored all other advances from those younger, prettier and more exciting suitor, forsaking them all for Derek.

 

Stiles, who had lain beneath him and whispered words of love to Derek. Who had broken down the hard cold walls surrounding Derek's heart, and shown him what it was to love again. Enabling Derek to love....another.

 

Derek' walked through the halls of the hospital. He had been directed to follow the blue line on the floor, and seek out a nurse by the name of Lynn.

 

They must have alerted her to his arrival, as she was waiting for him by the door to the ward.

 

She was a young thing, certainly too young to be a nurse. She smiled up at him warmly, a smile that reached all the way to her eyes. Derek liked her immediately, and felt himself relax slightly in her presence.

 

He felt her loop her arm though his, and she led him to a small room with soft dim lights and a cross on the far wall. Derek realized immediately that he was in the hospital chapel.

 

Lynn motioned for him to sit. Derek swallowed and took a few deep breaths. She seemed to be waiting for him to say something.

 

Finally, he turned to her and asked what he did not want to know.

 

"How long ago."

 

"About three weeks ago." Lynn said quietly, her face serious and her voice soft.

 

"Did he suffer?" Derek asked.

 

"Well, cancer can be painful, but he was kept heavily sedated on Morphine towards the end. I really don't think he felt much of anything."

 

So it had been Cancer. Had Stiles been afraid? Or had he borne his destiny stoically, like he had borne everything else life had thrown at him?

 

Derek was not a sentimental man, and he didn't know what motivated him to turn to Lynn and ask to see Stiles bed.

 

Wordlessly Lynn rose and led the way to a private room at the end of the hall. It was a beautiful day, and a sunbeam shone across the empty bed. It was a bright, almost happy room, and he felt soothed that if Stiles had to die, his last days were spent in such a room. It wasn't bad at all, as far as hospital rooms went.

 

He looked down at the bed and tried to picture Stiles laying there.

 

"You know, he always thought that you'd come." Lynn said. "He kept a photo of you here," she said, pointing to a small bedside table. "Towards the end he was hallucinating due to the amount of Morphine. He actually thought you were here. He would talk to you for hours."

 

Derek felt his eyes well up, and swallowed an unnaturally large lump in his throat.

 

"What did he say?" he asked quietly. His stiff upper lip was becoming harder and harder to maintain.

 

"He would just talk. He was not very lucid, so a lot of his babbling didn't make sense, but he seemed to refer to children he thought he had."

 

At that, Derek buried his head in his hands and wept openly. Lynn stood next to him and quietly rubbed soothing circles on his back.

 

In that quiet sunny room, Derek Hale wept for a man who he'd not thought about in years. A man who had never moved on, and never given up loving him.

********

The taxi arrived at its destination. A bluff overlooking the vast ocean, and Derek asked the driver to wait for him before climbing out and hiking to the top of the bluff.

 

The sun was close to setting, and the metallic blue of the ocean next to the golden light of the dying sun left Derek feeling breathless in its majesty.

 

He looked down at the box that he still clutched tightly to his chest. He frowned openly at it. A simple common cardboard box that now housed the ashes of Stiles Stilinski. If he had only known, he could have arranged for a more tasteful urn.

 

It was Lynn who had given him directions to the funeral home where Stiles had been taken. He had paid for his own cremation, and since he had no family or anyone to retrieve him, he had been placed on a shelf with all of the other unclaimed ashes. Seeing that had almost broken Derek’s heart. He had to sign copious amounts of documents before they would release Stiles remains to him, but they eventually did.

Derek knew what he had to do......

*****

Overlooking the ocean he opened the flap of the box and looked at the ashes within.

 

He sighed deeply and let the tears spill from his eyes and drip solemnly down his face. He was glad he was alone for this. He wouldn't want anyone else to see him in this state.

 

"Stiles, my dear dear Stiles.....I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I never looked for you after you left. I got so involved in my little world that I forgot there was a heart I had broken.

“I just don't understand why you never moved on. I wasn't worth you wasting your life on.... silly boy....*sob* silly.....lonely.....foolish......"

 

Derek's sobs were pulled violently from his body as he sunk to his knees.

 

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Stiles. Please forgive me......please please please forgive me."

 

Derek stayed on his knees and cried until he could cry no more.

 

As the sun kissed the ocean, Derek stood and held out the box.

 

"Stiles Stilinski, I release you. May you find peace in your freedom."

 

With that he flung the ashes into the wind.

 

It was odd, for such a windless evening, the ashes seemed to be caught up in a breeze.

 

They circled Derek once, twice, three times before flying away from him and dissipating over the ocean. Perhaps it was only a trick of the dying light, but Derek got the distinct impression that Stiles had finally released him.

 

He had finally moved on.

 

Fin.


End file.
